Mars
We laid our names to restAlong the dotted line.We left our date of birthAnd our history behind.
We were full of life,We could barely hold it in.We were amateurs at war,Strangers to suffering.
We made our families proudBut scared at the same time.We promised we’d be safe,Another lie from the front lines.
Our backs against the wall,We’re surrounded and afraid.Our lives now in the handsOf the soldiers taking aim.
Our questions ricochetLike broken satellites:How our bodies, born to heal,Become so prone to die?
Though time is ruthless,It showed us kindness in the end,By slowing down enough,A second chance to make amends.As life replayed, we heard a voice proclaim:
"lay your weapons down!They’re calling off the warOn account of losing trackOf what we’re fighting for."
So we found our way back home,Let our cuts and bruises heal.While a brand-new war began,One that no one else could feel.
Our nights have grown so long.Now we beg for sound advice."let the brokenness be felt'til you reach the other side.There is goodness in the heartOf every broken manWho comes right up to the edgeOf losing everything he has."
We were young enough to signAlong the dotted line.
Now we’re young enough to tryTo build a better life.To build a better life.